Divine Comedy
by svmaddict
Summary: A new beginning in an old country while some ancient gods are being nosy. With Olympus divided into Team Bill and Team Eric, it seems that Sookie will get to live her myth in modern-day Greece. A mostly AH story.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my second attempt in writing a story, and the first multi-fic I write. So I'm quite nervous of the outcome and hope you will all enjoy it. I need to thank my betas, the lovely _Suki59_ for correcting my many grammar mistakes and terrible punctuation, and _pixiegiggles_ for her helping polishing this story. Any mistakes left are still my own. **

**This chapter is an introduction so it' rather short, I'm planning for the next chapters to be bigger.**

**Disclaimer: All SVM characters and plot elements are the property of Charlaine Harris. Any elements taken from True Blood are the property of HBO and Alan Ball. The rest is mine.**

**~~~~*~~~~**

**Chapter 1.**

_"I'm bored." Zeus sat down with a thump and started drumming his fingers on the intricately carved arm of his golden throne. "Humans are boring nowadays. It's not even fun watching anymore. I have nothing to do." He pouted._

_Hera laughed. Whether they are thousands-year-old gods or mortal men, boys will be boys. "How about meddling a bit in mortals' lives? That always lifts your mood..." _

_"Which mortals? I see nothing of interest down there." _

_"Hmm… I think I have something in mind. Look over there."_

_"Where?"_

_"There. __Athens__."_

_"What? That policeman giving a traffic ticket?"_

_"No, my dear husband." Hera rolled her eyes. "THERE! That cute blonde standing on that balcony." _

_"Oh that. Hmm. She is pretty. She reminds me of Leda when…" Zeus trailed off and pretended to inspect his sandals as Hera narrowed her eyes at him. Mentioning Leda was probably not a good idea. It had been centuries since the last time Zeus went down to earth to chase mortal women but Hera's anger at his last indiscretions still hadn't subsided. It takes more than a few millennia for a woman to forget something like that._

_"Perhaps people-watching is not such a good idea." Hera declared in an icy voice. Not good, not good at all. It meant he wouldn't be allowed in their bed that night. "Go clean your thunderbolts if you're looking for something to do. And put them back in their place when you're done. I almost tripped on them last night. You keep leaving them on the floor. What am I, your slave to always pick them up for you?"_

_Time for some damage control before the whole of __Olympus__ realized the mighty King of the Gods was being scolded by his wife._

_"My little honey bunny, don't be angry with me. You know you're the only woman for me. Come on, let's watch the mortal girl together and then I'll feed you some ambrosia and give you a massage with that oil Aphrodite gave you." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively._

_Hera wanted to stay mad but he had her at "honey bunny." The massage just sweetened the deal. That Zeus. Always a charmer._

_"I don't know… I need to cut down on the ambrosia. I've gained some weight lately; my behind is going to get bigger than Persephone's if I'm not careful …" She whined. _

_"Nonsense. You know I love those sweet buttocks of yours. I'll just show you how much I love them tonight…"_

_Hera giggled as he swatted her butt playfully. _

***

I opened the balcony sliding glass doors and the noises of the city burst into my tiny apartment. It was late August and while the summer was on in full heat, a slight breeze coming from the sea made the air more bearable, imparting a slight taste of salt and the promise of faraway travels. I sighed contentedly and leaned against the balcony's iron rails, inspecting the city below.

Athens was by no means what you would call a beautiful city. The streets were full of cars and exhaust fumes, the sidewalks too narrow and full of parked motorcycles. Most of the buildings were obviously built in the 70s when, for some unearthly reason, architects hailed concrete as their new god. It had character though; you couldn't deny that even at first sight.

The area under the Acropolis had narrow alleys made of stone, small houses that looked like they were made for dolls, with clay roofs and marble balconies, bougainvilleas and ivy climbing their walls. Dogs were lying lazily all around the city, catching the sun, while people walked around them, always in a hurry.

And then there was that vibe that excited me, the reason I had come here in the first place: the vibe that this was not a new city, no matter what the ugly buildings, looking like the set of Kubrick's "Clockwork Orange," indicated.

It was founded over 3,000 years ago, the evidence of its history still scattered all over, ignored by the many as just another part of everyday life. While the few, the tourists with the cameras around their necks and the sun-block melting off their sweaty foreheads, shot picture after picture, trying to capture the timeless vibe and take it back home with them.

I liked this city; for a history lover like me, being here was a real treat. I was looking forward to exploring it--as soon as the sun went down a bit of course, because the August heat is unbearable and should be avoided as much as possible. I guess I should be used to it though, having lived in Bon Temps all my life. The hot air of Athens, heavy with humidity, reminded me of my hometown in Louisiana.

I moved my hand in front of my face to shoo away an annoying fly and the feeling of nostalgia that always overtook me when I thought of my hometown. Athens would be my home now and for the next two years.

I was lucky enough to win a scholarship from the Ministry of Culture of Greece after I was accepted into the postgraduate program of the History Department of the University of Athens. As Greek universities are tuition-free, the grant would be used to cover my living expenses. That, in addition to the money I inherited after Gran passed away three months before (another thought that made my chest ache), insured that I wouldn't need to work but would be able to focus on my studies instead.

I lowered the balcony awnings to keep the scorching rays of the morning sun from entering my already hot apartment and entered the small living room/kitchen, leaving the balcony door behind me open, hoping that the breeze would cool it down a few degrees.

It was not a bad apartment. The building was actually beautiful--built sometime in the early 1900s, made of bricks--not concrete--and painted white, with marble stairs and an old elevator, the kind that feels more like a time-machine than a lifting device.

The ceilings were tall and while the floor of the halls and the lobby were made of marble, my apartment had wooden floors in all rooms (all two of them!) except for the bathroom where marble seemed to be the main component again.

The apartment already had some basic furniture in it: a low coffee table, a couch, an easy chair and a wooden cabinet that served as a TV stand. The kitchen, which was separated from the living room by only a kitchen island, had two stools and the basic appliances: a small retro fridge, a stove and a kitchen sink made (surprise, surprise!) of marble.

The bedroom had a queen-size bed, a bedside table and a dresser. It seemed I would have to use either the coffee table in the living room or the kitchen island as my desk but that wouldn't be much trouble. As long as I had somewhere to plug in my laptop and enough space to scatter my books around, I would be fine.

What I needed to do now was unpack my suitcases and the two boxes full of books I had brought with me from home.

I shook my head. This was my home now. As much as it pained me, Gran was dead and Jason, my brother, was … well, Jason. And after what had happened with Alcide … Being back in Louisiana right now was more than I could bear; coming here was the right choice. Clean start. I had to make it on my own now--make this city, this country, my home.

With a new resolve, I got down to business, setting up my nest.

--------

Three days had passed since I first moved into my new apartment. After a trip to IKEA, numerous trips to the closest supermarket, and three days of cleaning and arranging, I was finally satisfied with my newly decorated flat.

I had picked new curtains and bedding, as well as rugs for the living room and bedroom, bought a microwave and a coffee maker, scattered vanilla and cinnamon candles around the apartment. After sprucing up the bathroom with a funky shower curtain and a mat and towel set to match, I hung a few posters in nice frames on the living room walls.

On the cabinet next to the TV, rested a small owl made of white stone. It was the symbol of Athena, goddess of wisdom and protector of the city of Athens and I had bought it at Monastiraki. That was the area of Athens near the temple of Hephaestus, where the ancient agora--the ancient market place--was located. After all these millennia, that was still the place to go if you wanted to buy anything from furniture to sandals to old record albums.

My books were scattered around, in disarray yet always within easy reach, just the way I liked them.

I looked around with a smile on my face and decided to hop in the shower, pleased with the outcome of my work. I was exhausted and I had decided that this would be a quiet evening with pizza and my favorite mythology book in hand.

Before taking a shower, I took the trash down, opting for the stairs. After three days of living in the building, I still found the ancient elevator a bit daunting. I had just climbed back up to my floor when I heard the elevator moving.

I hadn't met any of my neighbors yet. Apparently, August is the month most Athenians decide to take their vacation and the building was pretty much empty. It was a four-story building with two apartments on each floor. I lived on the third, and I was curious to see what the other tenants were like. I was hoping I could find some friends among them.

I heard female giggling and was almost at my apartment when the elevator reached my floor. It didn't stop but continued to the fourth floor, the shapes of the people in it indiscernible through the metal cage.

I heard the female giggling again as the elevator doors opened and some thumps I couldn't identify. Someone had tripped maybe? There was a moan, so that was a possibility, but the giggling continued. Strange. The door from the apartment directly above mine opened and closed, causing the giggling to fade. I shrugged and closed my own door behind me.

--------

I was standing under the lukewarm water, washing away the dirt and the heat of the day when the copper shower pipes in front of me started to move. It was a small movement but it was strange nevertheless. I turned the shower off and inspected the pipes more closely. They kept vibrating rhythmically.

I looked around, but nothing else was moving. So this wasn't an earthquake. What on earth could cause my shower to shake like that? Just as I was imagining my new house being haunted, with furniture and appliances dancing Beauty-and-the-Beast-style, I heard the same female voice I'd heard before.

It was coming from above, and strangely enough, matched the movement of the pipes. I blushed as realization dawned on me. The pipes started to shake more violently as the woman's screams increased in volume.

I was just standing there in my shower, naked and dripping wet, looking from the pipes to the ceiling and back to the pipes again with my mouth hanging open. It was like watching a tennis match. When the pipes finally stopped moving, the woman screamed, "GOD, ERIC, YES!"

Well, I guess now I knew what my upstairs neighbor's name was. And that if this sex-in-the-shower thing was a common occurrence, I would need new pipes soon.

I turned the shower on again and this time I opted for cold.

***

_Zeus was clutching his stomach; that's how hard he was laughing._

_"Oh, I like that boy! He made the pipes shake! And did you see the look on her face? Priceless!!!"_

_"What I saw is that she is lonely. Three days now and she hasn't met a soul. All she seems to be interested in is reading stories about us. Not that I mind of course. Not enough people pay attention to us these days. It is refreshing to see a mortal that appreciates us. I think I'll take her under my personal protection." She tapped her index finger on her bottom lip. _

_Zeus knew what that meant. His wife had a plan._

* * *

**Sooooo... what did you think? You know you'll do the good deed of the day by pressing that green button, so go on and let me know if you liked it or not. Hopefully the first, but all opinions will be welcome anyway. I have the second chapter half-written so, if there is interest for more, it shouldn't take me long to post it. **

**Till then,**

**xx**

**svmaddict**


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who left a review on the previous chapter! I'm glad you all seemed to like it and I hope you'll enjoy this one as well.

An applause goes to **Suki59** and **pixiegiggles** for their awesome beta skills and for getting back to me so fast. Any mistakes left are still my own.

I'd also like to give a shout-out to **Mrs I Northman **who puts up with me and spends hours on msn discussing every crazy thought that goes through my mind. She is my inspiration. I woke up the other day having dreamt an Eric/Sookie scene and I had to bombard her with it before even breakfast. So yeah, this is my "thank you", Immi.

Also, from now on you'll find a small description of the Gods mentioned in every chapter, at the bottom of the page, as per **pixiegiggle**'s suggestion. I understand that not all of you are familiar with Greek mythology and since the Gods will play a great part in this story it is important that you know who they are and what they are like.

I've also thought of including summaries of myths that might be mentioned on each chapter at the bottom of the page as well. I'll start it today as an experiment. If you like the idea please let me know & I will do the same in later chapters.

Enjoy reading and don't forget to leave me some review crack! It will be much appreciated! :)

**Chapter 2.**

"_Hard night?" Hera asked. _

_Hermes, official messenger and Head of Intelligence of Olympus, was holding his head with both hands, his elbows resting on his knees, and it was quite obvious he was suffering from a bad case of a hangover. _

"_Dionysus' fault," he groaned. "He dragged me to Myconos last night to check out some Scandinavian girls having an all-night fiesta on Super Paradise beach." He blinked his bloodshot eyes. "Is Panacea around? I need something for this headache. … Damn, those Scandinavians can party!" _

"_Don't try to blame me, little brother. SO not my fault." Dionysus was in a chipper mood, looking fresh and well-rested. There was no indication he had spent the whole night partying and that just made Hermes groan more. "I gave humankind the wine. It was the Mexicans that invented tequila." He grinned. "And I didn't hear you complain last night when you were doing Jose Cuervo body-shots off that Norwegian girl…"_

"_That's why I never drink. Humans may have hangovers; Gods should be above that," Hephaestus chimed in, making Hermes roll his eyes, which was not a good idea in his current state._

"_Yeah, right, Mr. Perfect. Should I remind you of that time you got completely trashed and agreed to marry Aphrodite? Talk about 'hangovers'…" Hephaestus' holier-than-thou attitude pissed him off. _

_Hera was growing impatient. "I don't suppose you have that report ready I asked of you, do you? Being busy partying with the Scandinavians and all…" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. _

"_The report is done, dear step-mother. Here." Hermes passed her a scroll, still supporting his head with one hand. Stupid Mexicans._

"_Great!" Hera unwrapped the scroll and started reading._

"_What's with that girl, anyway? Why did you have me doing a background check on her?"_

"_I have decided to take her under my wing. Just wanted to learn more about her." _

_She finished reading the report, wrapped the scroll again, and raised her head to look Hermes in his bloodshot eyes. "I knew I was right! She is a sweet girl and has suffered a lot in her life, definitely worthy of my protection._

_She has a big heart but she lacks confidence and she is introverted. She just needs a little push. And I know just the right person to help her with that …" _

******

I was deep in sleep when a persistent sound dragged me out of my dreams. I blinked my eyes and tried to understand what that ringing was. Doorbell? I raised my head from the pillow—where I had apparently been drooling, judging by the large wet stain on it—and checked the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. It was 6:30 in the morning. Who could possibly be visiting me at this ungodly hour? No, scratch that. Who could possibly be visiting me–period? I'd been in Athens for almost a week and I hadn't met anyone yet. I surely hadn't given my address to anyone, nor invited anyone over. I groaned and forced myself to get out of bed and go answer the door. Whoever had decided to pay me a visit was not giving up; the doorbell was still ringing.

I checked the peephole and was met with a huge grin. I didn't know the person that grin belonged to, nor how anyone could be that chipper this early in the morning, but there was only one way to find out. I tentatively opened the door and croaked out a "Yes?"

That of course meant, "How can I help you?" or "What the hell are you doing ringing my doorbell at this hour and waking me up?" —take your pick.

The tiny brunette in front of me though—the one with the huge smile—decided to perceive it as neither. For her it apparently translated to, "Please come in," because that is exactly what she did.

She made herself comfortable on the couch and finally decided to give me an explanation. Sort of.

"I am Amelia". Not much of an explanation, and I kept looking at her dumbstruck. I had just been brutally woken up, had been ambushed by an unknown brunette who was currently sitting on my couch and I hadn't had coffee yet. At 6:30 in the morning. Obviously my brain was not functioning properly.

Whoever this Amelia was, she must have finally figured out the half-conscious state I was in, because she got off the couch and clapped her hands once with excitement.

"Why don't you go throw some water on your face to wake yourself up while I make us some coffee?"

I probably should have demanded an explanation or refused to leave a stranger alone in my kitchen, but I did neither. Instead, I did as I was told and came back to the living room a few minutes later to find Amelia searching the cabinets for mugs.

"They're in the one on the left," I directed and earned myself another smile from her.

She placed a mug I had bought at the airport—with "Live Your Myth in Greece" in blue lettering on it—in front of me, while she took the cherry-red funky one from IKEA, the one shaped like lips. I took a sip of the steaming dark liquid and—finally feeling my brain cooperating with me—I asked the question I should have asked from the beginning. "Who are you?"

"I told you already, silly. I'm Amelia, your next door neighbor. I know your name is Sookie, I read it on the doorbell." She winked at me. "I just came back from Samos last night. Spent all of August there; now it's back to reality," she sighed. "I hate it when the summer is over … Have you ever been to Samos?"

I shook my head. "I haven't been anywhere yet. Just got in from the States five days ago. Samos is an island, right?"

She beamed. "Yes it is! Not many foreigners know it; it's not a very touristic island. I'm impressed!"

"No reason to be." I swallowed some more coffee. "I'm not good at geography, certainly not Greek geography. I only know of it because it was the birthplace of Hera," I explained.

Amelia had just raised her mug to take a sip of her coffee when she stopped the motion mid-air; her eyes widened. She placed her mug back down on the counter and asked, "Are you one of us?"

"One of whom?" She wasn't making any sense. I had a feeling my next door neighbor was a weird one.

"The worshippers of the Old Ones ..." Her eyes fell on the small owl next to the TV. "Are you a worshipper of Athena?" She was smiling even brighter now, excitement rolling off of her in waves.

"I don't think I follow you. Worshipper of the Old Ones? Worshipper of Athena?"

She seemed to examine me more carefully and then shrugged. "Never mind; I was wrong. I was just hoping for a moment there … But how did you know Samos was the birthplace of Hera? Not a lot of foreigners know things like that. Hell, not even a lot of Greeks know things like that anymore. Ask them how many sons Noah had or how many years Moses wondered in the desert and they'll know. Ask them where Heracles got his name and they don't have a clue," she huffed, obviously frustrated with her people.

"The name Heracles derived from the words "Hera" and "cleos" which means strength or glory, depending on how you use it," I provided helpfully. Okay, I might have been showing off a bit. "When Heracles was an infant, Zeus placed him in bed with the sleeping Hera and the baby drank milk from her breast. Hera woke up to see her husband's illegitimate son drinking from her and shoved the baby away, causing the milk to spill and create the Milky Way. As Heracles had been fed by a goddess, he was stronger than normal people—stronger even than other demi-gods. Hence, his name." Amelia was staring at me. "I'm expected to know such stuff." I shrugged. "I'm a History grad student; my focus is on Mythology. It's why I came here. I'm going to register at the University of Athens tomorrow."

Amelia was deep in thought. "You know, I didn't plan on telling you this, not yet anyway. But I don't normally go ring people's doorbells that early in the morning. I'm …" She hesitated. "I woke up this morning and I just HAD to come and meet you, you know?"

No, I didn't know, but I was raised to be polite so I just nodded reassuringly, urging her to continue.

"I'm a polytheist." I looked at her wondering if she was kidding, my eyebrows rising. Were people polytheists these days? She must have guessed my thoughts because she continued. "I myself am a worshipper of Hera but I believe in all of the Olympians. Yeah, I know what you must think. Most people just think I'm a witch." She shrugged.

Who was I to judge her? I guess believing in the Olympians made as much sense as believing in Immaculate Conception or a man walking on water. I was raised to be a Christian and my Gran would roll in her grave if she knew my current beliefs—or lack thereof—but when I first got interested in mythology, I realized that all religions were mythologies in a way. I was generally against labels but I was going under "agnostic" lately.

"You can practice any religion you want as far as I'm concerned." I smiled to her. "But what does ringing my doorbell at the crack of dawn have to do with it?" Yeah, probably not so subtle and against my southern manners, but she did wake me up after all. I couldn't just let that slide.

"I don't think I can really explain it," Amelia said, eyeing me apologetically. "I woke up today and it was like an urge. I think I was told to come here."

"Told?" Yes, my next door neighbor was definitely a weird one.

"Never mind. Call it an epiphany, divine intervention or fate; I think the two of us are meant to be friends. I have a feeling we'll be very good friends." She beamed. "I'm really glad you moved here. I needed someone in this building I could talk to."

I had to admit that while Amelia was a bit strange, she radiated warmth and she was easy to talk to. Plus, I could use a friend. I was glad she had come knocking on my door. She could have chosen a more humane hour maybe, but that was not the point.

"What are the other tenants like?" It was my opportunity to learn more about the neighbors I had yet to meet. So far, the closest thing to an interaction I'd had with any of them was what I was referring to as "The Dancing Shower" incident.

Turns out Amelia was more than happy to provide me with information.

"Well, on the first floor lives Octavia. She is an old lady, widow of late Colonel Flood. She used to be an opera singer before marrying. She is a nice enough lady, although a bit austere and bossy, but when she starts telling stories from her youth there is no stopping her … So unless you want to spend a whole afternoon listening to her telling you of her pre-Colonel conquests, when she was considered to be the next Maria Callas—her words, not mine—I suggest you refrain from paying her a visit … On the apartment across hers, lives Terry. Nobody knows much about him; he is like the ghost of this building—a hermit. No one has ever seen him come out and he is pretty quiet, keeping to himself."

"Never comes out? And how does he do his grocery shopping?"

Amelia shrugged. "No idea. I knocked on his door once to see if he needed anything but he never answered it. It was kinda creepy, because I could feel him watching me from the peephole—you know how sometimes you just know when people are watching? Yeah, well, I could feel him watching me the whole time I stood there but he didn't open the door or even talk to me through it. He didn't make a sound. I've stayed clear of his apartment ever since."

Now that I had coffee in my system, I decided that I needed something solid in my stomach too. I opened one of the kitchen cabinets and took out a pack of chocolate chip cookies. I placed them between Amelia and me, nodding to indicate that she could help herself while I thought of what she had told me so far. This was turning out to be one interesting building to live in. An old opera singer, a hermit, a polytheist and a mythology nerd from the American South.

"Who lives on the second floor?" I asked before shoving a whole cookie in my mouth. I am a bit of a pig when it comes to chocolate; I can't help it.

Amelia snorted. "The second floor, or what I like to refer to as "The Bitch Floor," houses the lairs of Scylla and Charybdis." She noticed the questioning look I was giving her so she continued. "Not exactly, but close. On the apartment below yours lives Selah. She is married to a sailor who is away many months at a time. Let's just say she doesn't just sit around waiting for him to come home." Amelia raised an eyebrow suggestively. "She throws herself at every male that crosses her path; the woman is insatiable." Small break to eat a cookie. "These are good; where did you buy them? Anyway, across the hall from Selah, below my apartment, is Arlene. She has two kids, Coby and Lisa, but I don't think even she knows their fathers. She changes men more often that she changes her knickers. She hasn't managed to make any of them stick around for more than a couple of months. Selah and Arlene have a strange relationship. They are supposed to be friends but they have had some serious bitch-fights from time to time, over men. They don't really like other women, including each other, as they consider them the competition. So if I were you, those two would be the last I'd go to if I needed to borrow a cup of sugar. You're young and pretty; they are bound to hate you."

I would be lying if I said that I hadn't wanted to ask this question from the beginning. "Do you know the guy that lives above me?"

Amelia's eyes twinkled. "Oh, yes. Eric. Have you met him yet?" The playful smirk on her face let me know she thought I had. Apparently, I didn't ask as nonchalantly as I thought I had.

"Not exactly, no." I felt heat rising to my cheeks. I could never lie or try to hide my emotions without having those traitorous cheeks giving me away.

Amelia's interest was peaked. She sat straighter on her stool and seemed ready to pounce on me.

"C'mon girlfriend! What is that supposed to mean? Spill!!"

"I haven't met him per se … I don't even know what he looks like. I've only heard him."

"Heard him?"

"Yes, he was rather, um, _enjoying_ a shower the other day …"

"Noooo! Don't tell me he …" Amelia made a motion that showed me I had given her the wrong idea. "… And you could hear him?"

My cheeks were probably crimson at that point. "No, no! God no! That would be ... ewww. He, um ... he wasn't alone. The girl that was with him made most of the noise, actually. That's how I got to learn his name; she was kind enough to let me know," I chuckled. "She was kind enough to let the whole block know, the way she was screaming it …" There might have been a wistful tone in my voice. I hadn't felt the need to sceam anyone's name in a long, long time. Amelia didn't seem to notice though, or was nice enough to ignore it.

"She must have been one of his models."

"His models? Is he a fashion designer or a photographer?" Definitely an interesting building to live in.

"Neither. He's a sculptor. Or at least he says he is. I think he's just using it as an excuse to bring all those girls into his studio."

"You don't sound very fond of him," I noted.

"He is a charmer, a womanizer. All he has to do is smile that panty-dropping smile of his for women to turn into a big pile of goo. And believe me, he takes advantage of it plenty. I am sceptical of men like him."

"I know what you mean," I said quietly. Alcide had been a charmer. I should have known from the start what that meant; I should have seen it coming, but I was blinded by his smooth manners and my inexperience and completely missed the signs. Amelia was right; men like that were dangerous.

"Plus, I don't think he likes me very much either. He's always acted like a cocky asshole whenever I've talked to him. Or perhaps that's just the way he is. So, you don't know what he looks like?"

I shook my head.

"I'd better give you a heads-up then so you don't faint or something when you first see him. Don't laugh, I've seen it happen."

I did laugh though, and it was much needed laughter. It was nice being here, sitting on my kitchen counter, drinking coffee with my slightly crazy neighbor while we gossiped. It was starting to feel like home.

"Is he really that good looking?"

"Even though he is not my favorite person in the world, I have to admit that he is sex personified. Tall, blond and gorgeous. He looks like a Viking—he is Swedish, you know. One look at him and you just wish he'd throw you over his shoulder and have his way with you on a pile of furs in front of a fire place. Not that I've ever fantasized about that …" She was looking everywhere but at me at that point, proving that she _had_ indeed fantasized about just that.

I chuckled, and she continued after clearing her throat.

"Anyway, you get the point. He is the kind of man that makes women stare. Not with peripheral vision, as we usually do to keep from getting caught. Outright, mouth gaping, drooling and all, stare."

I knew what she meant. My brother Jason always had that affect on women. The boy was dumber that a bag of hammers and a complete narcissist but women couldn't keep their eyes off him. Or their hands.

"What is it that you do, Amelia?" I realised that I didn't know much about the girl sitting next to me.

"I'm working as a receptionist at an alternative therapy center. You know, homeopathy, acupuncture, naturopathy …"

"What is naturopathy? Never heard of that one before."

"Naturopathy is an alternative medical system that focuses on natural remedies and the body's vital ability to heal and maintain itself." She sounded like she was reading a definition straight from Wikipedia.

"Cool," I said and drank the last of my now cold coffee. I just couldn't think of anything else to say—"cool" is like a passé partout—fits most occasions and is my go-to reply when my wit fails me.

"Okay, I need to go unpack and clean my apartment. It's been closed for nearly a month; dust is having a party in there." She got off the stool and gave me a hug.

I showed her to the door like the well-mannered southern belle that I was and smiled. I liked Amelia; she was the first friend I'd made in this city. As she opened the door to her apartment, she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, and we're going out for drinks tonight. Be ready at eight; I'll knock on your door." She winked and dissapeared.

--------------

The rest of the day passed quickly. After Amelia left, I hopped in the shower—no incidents this time—and then got dressed quickly in a sundress, put on a pair of flats and went out for some exploring. I liked strolling in the city without a guidebook or a map—just walking aimlessly and capturing the small details that most tourists seemed to miss. I always thought it was those details that made a city's psyche.

I returned to the apartment a little after noon and took another shower. While September had just arrived, the summer heat still lingered, making you wish you were under cool water 24/7. I made a Greek salad with lots of feta cheese for lunch, accompanied by warm bread from the bakery down on the corner. This combination was quickly becoming my new food obsession.

Since I had not slept as late as I'd wanted in the morning and I had a night out planned, I decided a nap was in order. I took off my sundress and my bra—leaving only my panties on—and went to bed. I wasn't used to sleeping in the nude, but this heat made pyjamas unbearable. I closed my eyes and was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

When I opened my eyes again, the digital clock read 19:22. I cursed when I realized I had only a little over half an hour to get ready and entered the bathroom for my third shower of the day.

Thirty minutes later, I was ready to go with time to spare. I sat in the living room and waited for Amelia to come knock on my door.

After a few minutes, I heard noises in the corridor and thinking it was Amelia, I opened the door. Instead of the crazy girl next door, I caught a glimpse of a blond mane and a pair of broad shoulders clad in a black t-shirt going down the stairs. I was about to close my door again when Amelia opened hers.

"Ready, girlfriend?" I nodded. "Time for you to meet Athens by night!" she grinned.

* * *

**Hera:** Queen of the Gods, the wife of Zeus. She is the First Lady of Olympus. Loyal, clever, beautiful, vigorously moral, she is the protector of family and especially wives. She is very jealous of Zeus (well, she has a reason to be), stubborn and vindictive. But then again, most Olympians are when you cross them. She is not all bad, mostly misunderstood. If you remain on her good side, Hera can be very caring. People that have been wronged can count on her protection.

**Hermes: **Hermes is the official messenger of Olympus, also acting as a spy when needed. Son of Zeus and Maia (a Nymph). If you've ever seen his statue made by Praxiteles, then you already know that he is extremely good looking. He is an eternal teenager, a prankster. Protector of all mischievous acts; a Patron to gamblers, thieves, liars and playboys. Overall he is fun to be around but not to be trusted.

**Hephaestus: **This poor guy is the only ugly Olympian. He, Hebe and Ares are the only children of Hera and Zeus. The God of fire, metallurgy and technology, he is a hard worker and an overall decent man; he can also be boring and overly virtuous. He was married to Aphordite but their marriage ended badly. He has a huge crush on Athena.

**Dionysus:** If you've watched the second season of True Blood then you have the completely wrong idea about this guy. He is the God of Wine, one of the most beloved Gods in ancient Greece (I wonder why), the son of Zeus and a mortal girl named Semeli. He is fun, playful and mischievious; he and Hermes make quite a team. No human sacrifices, no eating Hunter's souffles, no black eyes and zombies. He is although know as Eleftherios (he who liberates), and Vromios (he with the loud voice). Alan Ball got that right. He may be over the top sometimes but he is the guy you'd really really want to come at your party. He is almost always accompanied by Nymphs and Mainads (the word means crazy women) as well as Satyrs. Mainads had quite a reputation in ancient Greece, that is true, but think of them as groupies. That's what Dionysus is, a rock star.

**Panacea:** Daughter of Asclepius (God of Healing) she is the Goddess of Remedy.

**How Hephaestus got drunk and agreed to marry Aphrodite: **

It all begins with his birth. When he was born and his mother Hera saw how ugly he was, she got scared. She threw him to the sea and he landed on the island of Lemnoswhere he was raised by lesser goddesses. His fall from Olympus left him crippled. When he grew up, he returned to Olympus to take his place among the other Gods. His mother apologised to him for treating him so badly and he pretended to forgive her. Instead, he made a golden thrown with invisible chains and gave it to her as a gift. When Hera sat on the throne, she was chained and nobody could free her. Hephaestus declared that he would only set her free if Athena was given to him to be his wife. Unfortunately for him, Athena was a sworn virgin and wanted nothing to do with him. Dionysus saved the day when he pretended to congratulate Hephaestus for his cleverness to trick Hera and gave him to drink. The blacksmith of the Gods was not used to wine and got drunk, agreeing to unchain Hera and marry Aphrodite instead of Athena. When he sobered up he realised that he had been taken for a fool and his marriage with Aphrodite didn't last long—but that is a story for another time…

xx

svmaddict


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I have a couple of good excuses for my delay: First, my laptop's charger broke and I was out of battery for a week, having to use a borrowed laptop, the keyboard of which seemed to hate me. Then, I had some bad news and they left me completely numb and in no mood for anything creative. But, excuses aside, the truth is I was being extremely lazy and I preferred to read the work of some of the brilliant authors of this fandom instead of focusing on my own.

A few of my readers and members of the twitter gang (**lanilani26**, **seasonblogs** and **pfloogs72** I'm talking about you!) threatened me with an electronic whip though and gave me a deadline; which seemed to be exactly what I needed to get my ass down to writing.

This chapter was beta'd by the amazing **Pixiegiggles**.

So here it is and I hope you enjoy *bows*

**Chapter 3**

Our first stop was for food. Amelia claimed that nightlife in Athens never started this early –the bars wouldn't start to fill until after ten. So instead of heading out towards a bar, she took my hand and practically dragged me through narrow, stonepaved alleys towards Aerides, where the ancient Roman Baths were.

I knew where we were because I had passed through those same alleys during one of my many walks. What I didn't know was that after the sun went down, a place that seemed pretty dead in the day—but for the few wondering tourists— started to buzz with youth. The sun had just set, leaving a pinkish orange flame low on the horizon while the sky above us was already wearing a dark blue velvet. The air was still warm but unlike during the day, it was comfortable enough for strolling around or for people to choose to sit outside instead of indoors.

We passed a group of teenagers, boys and girls sitting at the stone benches of a plaza that surrounded what looked like a Byzantine church. They were talking using their hands a lot and laughing and a couple of them were holding cans of beer. The older amongst them didn't look more than sixteen and I raised a questioning brow to Amelia.

"In Greece there are no laws against drinking in public and there is no such thing as underage drinking either," she explained. "Kids have their first taste of beer or wine when they are toddlers."

"That does not sound very healthy or responsible to me …." I didn't want to sound judgemental but what kind of practice was that?

Amelia didn't seem to be offended. "It works," she shrugged. "Hey, it's not like we fill their baby bottle with beer and let them drink till they drop! But when we are all sitting at the family table and kids ask to try what the grown ups are drinking, we allow them a sip or two. I know it must sound weird to you or—as you said—irresponsible, but the truth is that teenagers in Greece don't feel the need to get hammered to have a good time; maybe exactly because alcohol was never something off limits for them. They know their own. Limits, I mean. Those kids back at the plaza are probably drinking their first and last beer of the night."

It still didn't sound like a good idea to me but I refrained from saying anything more.

We reached our destination—a small tavern with tables outside, under a wooden pergola with a vine climbing up its beams. It was nice. The tables were covered in red plaid tableclothes and small lamps, hanging from between the vine's branches, were spreading a soft yellow light. Inside the tavern, people formed a small queue waiting to pick up their take-out orders. We decided to sit at one of the tables, as we had plenty of time and the night was still young. The city noises seemed to be far away and we could hear crickets singing somewhere nearby. I suddenly flashed to Gran telling me "_Crickets singing means rain is coming_". I looked up, but the sky was a perfect deep blue—not a cloud in sight. I sighed and started chatting with Amelia to distract my thoughts.

"What will you girls have?" I hadn't heard or seen the waiter approaching us. He was very handsome; medium height with brown curly hair and a mischievious glint in his green eyes. He looked like a toddler ready to steal a cookie from the jar.

Amelia instantly perked up at the sight of him. "Will you bring us two menus? My friend here hasn't been in Greece long, she needs to see the choices before deciding." She looked like Betty Boop at that moment, with her short dark hair and huge eyes, batting her eyelashes like a pro. One more thing I've got to learn about Amelia—she was not afraid to flirt.

The waiter winked at her and turned on his heels gracefully.

"Two menus, coming right up!"

He hadn't even moved out of hearing distance yet when Amelia clapped her hands and bounced up and down her seat. "So cute! I've never seen him before, he must be new here!"

It was hard not to laugh with Amelia, she was an instant spirit-booster. The waitor brought us our menus and while I was checking mine and the little photographs it had next to every food listed, he and Amelia started to talk fast in Greek. I assumed they continued flirting so I left them to do their thing. I had eyed a photograph of a very mouthwatering dish, and that was all I cared about. I hadn't eaten anything all day except a couple of cookies and a Greek salad.

The waiter left to put in our orders and Amelia and I resumed our talk.

"So, you were telling me about why you decided to come here," she reminded me.

"Oh, yes. Well, as I was telling you, after Gran died there was nothing holding me back. I needed a change of scenery. And since I wanted to study about Greek mythology I figured there wasn't a better place to do so than Greece."

"Didn't you leave any boy behind? Anyone special?" She waggled her brows.

I was in no mood to tell her about Alcide so I shook my head. "What's your story?" I changed the subject. "Your English is perfect. You do have a slight accent, but I can't place it— it's not the same as other Greeks ...."

She waved a hand as if dismissing an annoying fly. "My father is Australian. Came in Greece one summer, met a Greek hippy girl and 9 months later I was born. Mom didn't want to get married, she was against such conventions, but Dad came from a wealthy, puritanic family. It wouldn't look good in Australia's high-society if Carmichael the Youngest had a child out of wedlock," she rolled her eyes. "Their marriage didn't last long but when I was a kid we only spoke English inside the house. After their divorce when I was 6, I went to Australia every year to spend a couple of months with my grandparents; hence the bastard accent."

Our waiter was approaching with a huge overflowing tray in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. I saw another waiter dangerously balance a high tower of dirty dishes in his hands, heading straight towards him. I was about to shout to him to watch out as the collision seemed inevitable, when our waiter jumped out of the way with one fluid motion and landed next to our table effortlessly, with his tray unaffected by the pirouette. He grinned and started unloading our order.

"Wow," I gulped. "How did you do that? That was amazing!" Amelia was also looking at him wide eyed.

"That was nothing. I have a way of landing on my feet; I'm like a cat," he winked. "People say I have wings on my shoes," he laughed.

We practically inhaled our food and I couldn't stop moaning with every bite. The kebab with the yogurt sauce was incredible. Amelia almost choked on her mousaka when I made a particularly loud moaning sound while I tried the zucchini fried balls. We started laughing and making jokes and before we knew it we were both lounging back in our chairs, holding our full stomachs as if we were pregnant, and swearing we wouldn't eat again for at least a week, our plates now completely empty.

The waiter dropped off the bill and a large plate of watermelon, on the house.

"So, where to next?" I asked my guide for the night as we headed back on the road.

"Well, I was thinking we could go to a bar not far from here," Amelia turned to look at me, "but Aggelos suggested that we go to this other bar called _Perfect Ten,_" she eyed me almost pleadingly. "I know that bar, I've been there before and it's pretty cool, great atmosphere ... and Aggelos said he might be there later, when his shift is over."

"Who is Aggelos?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.

"Our waiter …" she looked at me shyly from under her eyelashes. Amelia and shyness just didn't mix.

I couldn't hold myself any longer, and I started laughing. "Alright, alright, enough with the puppy eyes! It doesn't matter to me where we go. I'm new here, remember?"

"Great!" She started bouncing. "_Perfect Ten_ isn't walking distance, though. We need to get to the main road and find a cab."

Twenty minutes later, we were at the bar. It was a little after ten, and as Amelia had predicted, the place was not full yet. We found a table easily and sat back on the comfortable couch. After ordering our drinks from our waitress, who introduced herself as Kat, we looked around. It was a modern space with low tables, comfortable couches, and leather ottomans. Soon the bar started filling up and we began people-watching while sipping our drinks. Meanwhile, I couldn't shake off the creepy feeling that it was I who was being watched. I looked around but didn't see anyone staring at me so I shrugged and had another sip of my gin and tonic.

..........

_Hera sat back and started brushing her hair. She had been watching Sookie and Amelia ever since they had entered the bar. Her plan to have Amelia approach and befriend Sookie to help her get out of her shell had worked perfectly thus far. Now it was time for Phase B of the plan._

_She took out a scroll and a feather pen and turned her attention to the males in the bar. Studying each man carefully, she kept notes, eventually dismissing them all. Too pathetic, too needy, too short, too sleazy –they all had a flaw. She wanted to find Sookie a mate but she wasn't that desperate; she would wait for something good to come along._

_Some time had passed and the bar was pretty full when something caught her interest. "_Bingo_!"_

..........

It was almost midnight and the bar was so full most people just stood with their drinks in hand. I was grateful we had gotten there early enough to secure a table; I hated just standing in bars. Amelia's voice brought me out of my musings.

"Sookie, he is here!"

"Who is?" I turned and tried to follow her gaze but there were too many people at the bar—I couldn't figure out who it was she was looking at.

"The Viking. The guy upstairs, remember?"

I craned my neck trying to finally get a glimpse of the guy who made my pipes shake. But right then, the man that was standing next to me got pushed by another and the contents of his glass ended up spilling all over my yellow sundress.

"Oh, bloody hell!" he exclaimed in a distinctly English accent.

Jude Law. James Bond. Ralph Fiennes. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. My dress was soaked and smelled like whiskey; it was no time to swoon over an accent.

I got up with the intention of going to the ladies room and clean myself up, as well as escape from Amelia, who was fussing over me and my destroyed dress, when I met his eyes. They were dark brown and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, miss. This place is so darn crowded. It was an accident, I assure you."

I smiled softly. It was not his fault, these things happen. And with my luck, they usually happen to me.

"That's okay. I'll just go to the ladies room and clean myself. I understand —it's not like you did it on purpose."

He made room for me to pass, lowering his head in a manner that reminded me of the heroes in my Victorian novels. Yes, I admit it—besides mythology I also like to read romances, with a preference to the Victorian era, but I do not disclose that information about myself often. It's my dirty little secret.

"I'd be more than happy to pay for the dry-cleaners," he said hurriedly before I walked away. "And maybe buy you a drink to make it up to you?" His eyes were still apologetic but also … hopeful?

I took a moment to take him in. Damn, he did look like Fiennes a bit. The English Patient-Fiennes not Voldermort-Fiennes.

He wasn't very tall, but still a few good inches taller than me. Dark hair with somewhat retro sideburns, thin lips, high cheekbones and a straight nose. He was wearing khakis with a button down shirt. Handsome, in an old-fashion way.

I nodded with a soft smile, and made my way to the restrooms. When I got back, not quite clean but at least not as sticky either, he was sitting on the ottoman next to my side of the couch and talking with Amelia. There was a new gin and tonic sitting at the table next to my old, half-empty one.

He got up when he saw me approaching and lowered his head once again when I passed next to him to take my seat. Amelia raised an eyebrow at me and had a grin like the cat that ate the canary.

"Well, our new friend here is Bill, Sookie. Bill Compton."

Having Bill spill his drink on me turned out to not be such a bad thing after all. He had come here with a friend, but as this friend was now at the opposite side of the bar getting acquainted with a redhead's tonsils, he sat with us. He made it obvious that he was interested in me and I'd lie if I said that I didn't like the attention. But I just wasn't sure I wanted to be involved with someone just yet. I had come to Greece with a broken heart and I had sworn off men for a while. That was my resolution, at least. I just hoped I would be able to keep that one better than my New Year's resolution—which had been to join a gym. I did join it, but only set foot in it twice. But I digress.

Even though I wasn't sure how far I wanted to let things go, Bill's interest was flattering and made me feel better than I had felt in a long time. We talked; the usual stuff strangers talk about when they first meet.

I learned that he was from Oxford and he was doing his PhD at the Panteion University of Social and Political Sciences on "The repercussions the British involvement in the Greek civil war had in Greek society and the Greek political scene." Railway of a subject if you ask me and I lost him half way through. Amelia was contributing a sentence or two to the conversation now and then but mostly she was scanning the bar while sipping her drink—probably hoping that she would spot Aggelos soon.

It was almost one in the morning when we decided it was time to go. I had to wake up the next morning and go register at the university and Amelia was working the morning shift. Besides, I could tell she was disappointed that Aggelos had not turned up and she was ready to go home and have some consoling ice-cream. We exchanged phone numbers with Bill who escorted us outside and like a true gentleman waited with us until we found a cab, to make sure we got in alright.

Once we told the cab driver our address and we were on our way, I expected Amelia to start the Spanish Inquisition and tease me endlessly about Bill but she barely spoke a word. I guess she liked that Aggelos more than I thought. I patted her hand and she smiled sadly at me and sighed.

We paid the cab and we got in the elevator to get to our floor. It was the first time I got in it since I'd moved into the building and it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be—although it made an awfully squeaky sound.

As we stood outside our apartments, I thanked Amelia for taking me out to show me Athens by night, and her mood seemed to lift.

"We did have a good time, didn't we? I mean the food was great and the bar was nice, you got to meet someone," she winked. "And we can always go back to that tavern to try some more of the foods, right?"

"Absolutely!" I winked back.

I closed the door behind me and took off my shoes. I opened the balcony sliding doors to let some fresh air into the warm apartment and got in the bathroom to remove my make-up and brush my teeth. A few minutes later I was putting on my comfy cotton nightgown and getting into bed with a sigh of relief.

...........

"_Am I brilliant or what?" Hera had a look of triumph on her face as she turned to Zeus for congratulations. _

"_You are always brilliant, my love," Zeus confirmed obligingly. _

"_It took me some time to decide on who was the right one, you know. He was the only one in that crappy bar who seemed gentleman enough for her. I wonder what got into them to go to a place that is a known haven for players. But I had that redhead distract his friend and clear the way nicely. And his spilling that drink on her was no accident of course." She was evidently very proud of herself. _

"_I'm going to go to bed now. Are you coming?" She cast him a look that indicated her schemes had left her in a good mood overall and sleeping was not in her immediate plans._

"_I'll be right behind you honey bunny. I have some things to take care of first."_

"_Alright, but don't be late…" she said in her most seductive voice._

_Once she was out of sight, Hermes moved out of the shadows._

"_Well, that didn't work out as we thought it would."_

"_Yes, Hera ruined our plans …." Zeus was thoughtful. He was a sore loser; he didn't like being outplayed._

"_If it's any consolation, having me tell Amelia to take Sookie to the bar where Eric would be, was a great idea. Them meeting in a place with lots of alcohol, lowered defences, easy seduction ... great thinking. And if Hera wasn't watching, then 'Aggelos,'" here Hermes made quotations in the air with his fingers "would have made an appearance at the bar as promised and distract Amelia long enough for the Viking to charm the little American. Pity things didn't turn out the way you wanted them to..." He scratched his chin and looked at his father. "But how come you're so interested in getting those two together? You don't usually care about mortal women's romantic life … unless of course you're part of it," he chuckled. "And, from what I know, you haven't been involved with a mortal for centuries…"_

"_I'm not interested in her 'romantic' life. Unlike Hera, I don't believe getting to choose a wedding cake is the key to happiness." Zeus growled. "What that girl needs is not a white picket fence and 2,5 children. It's an adventure. And that Northman seems like he'd be able to give her just that. That boy reminds me of myself_—_he knows how to bring pleasure to a woman."_

"_That explains it then … Seduction by proxy?" Hermes' green eyes were glinting mischievously. "You can't seduce her because you're scared of your wife so you'll help him do it instead? Married life is that boring, huh? I'm glad I decided to remain a bachelor …" He ran a hand through his curly hair._

_Zeus's eyes shot daggers at him. "Enough! And this isn't over. I haven't lost yet. The game is just starting." _

_As he eyed his lightning bolt sitting next to his thrown a grin formed on his lips. "Yes… this is only the beginning."_

* * *

_A/N_

_As you must have already figured out by now, the green-eyed waiter with the acrobatic skills was none other than Hermes. It seems not all the Gods have the same agenda and things are about to get more complicated… _

_I'm sorry that we have yet to meet Eric but the moment didn't feel right... Just hang on 'till the next chapter. Eric's and Sookie's first meeting will be, um, thunderous. *gigglesnort* _

_Now lets get back to class:_

_**Aggelos **__('__Αγγελος__), the name I chose to give to Hermes while in disguise, was not random I'll have you know. Aggelos means "angel" in Greek and is in fact where the word "angel" derives from. But its original (pre-christian) meaning was "messenger" and was one of the epithets given to Hermes as the official messenger of the Gods. He was also called "psychaggelos" (__ψυχάγγελος__), because he was the one that led the souls (psyches) of the dead to the Underworld._

_**Zeus: **__We had already met Zeus at the first chapter, but I didn't have the pleasure of formally introducing him._

_As I guess most of you know, Zeus was the King of the Gods and one of the three most powerful Olympians. He and his two brothers, Poseidon and Plouton (also know as Hades; although when Greeks refer to "Hades", they don't refer to the God himself but to the Underworld) had divided the Universe. Zeus was the Master of the Sky and the Earth, Poseidon the Master of the Seas and all waters, and Plouton was the Master of the world of the dead but also of everything that can be found under the earth. Therefore all precious metals and stones are the property of Plouton, which explains his name (Plouton in Greek means "he who brings wealth")._

_Zeus was the youngest son of the Titans Cronus ("Time") and Rhea (archaic word for Earth) and became King of the Gods when overthrew his father and liberated his siblings. _

_He was married to Hera, who also happened to be his sister, but he was famous for what Jason Stackhouse would call "his sexcapades" with both goddesses and mortals (mostly women but also the occasional pretty boy). He fathered many children, some of which we are going to meet in the following chapters but his conquests as well as his illegitimate offspring suffered greatly from his cheated wife's wrath. _

_In truth, Zeus and Hera are a lot like each other. They are both stubborn, they can be mean, they can be playful, they can act like petulant children when they don't get their way; but one thing is constant about them: they remain passionately in love with each other. _

_Although I tend to compare Eric to Apollo (another God we've yet to meet) he also reminds me of Zeus, mostly in the way he carries himself and because of his behaviour towards women. _

_This explains why Zeus has taken him under his wing the way Hera has taken Sookie under her protection. _

_I know some of you must have expected Hera to help Sookie get together with Eric but that would be against her character -and if there is one thing I like in fics, that's keeping the protagonists in character. _

_As Zeus said, this is only the beginning. _

_*curtain closes*_


	4. Chapter 4

This time it took me less than a week to post, you shouldn't complain kids. Although, you owe it to **lanilani **who keeps bothering me to write and the fan-freaking-tastic** Missconstrued **who beta'd this chapter in record time. You should read lanilani's story **The Dead and All the Dying **and the amazing stories Missconstrued is currently working on; especially **The Heat is in the Tools **which made me lust after Alcide. And that is not an easy thing to accomplish, I'll tell you.

Also!! Don't forget to visit (and subscribe) to **The Sookieverse **at** http: // www(.)thesookieverse(.)com/ **It's not only a directory with SVM-related blogs and websites but also authors. Plus, it has many extras, such as reviews to all SVM books by guest -bloggers (some of our most favorite Fanfic authors!)

One last thing; **Sapfirerose** has made an amazing banner for this story which you can find on my profile page. Thank you girl for your effort, I loved the result! :D

Now, on with the show!

**********

**Chapter 4.**

I exited the metro station on Panepistimiou Avenue and passed the Academy of Athens, heading towards the University. The two statues of Athena and Apollo on either side of the classic edifice were standing tall, inspecting the traffic on the busiest road of central Athens.

I entered the building and found my way to the secretariat of the History Department. Today I was here to register for my Masters class and to get my student pass.

Two hours later, I had finally finished with registration, and had been given a list of my classes for the first semester, as well as a list of the bookstores I was to get my books from. University textbooks in Greece were paid for by the state, so all I had to do was find the various bookstores that held an agreement with the university and hand them the respective coupons along with my student card. I checked the list; seven different bookstores scattered all around the city. It would take me forever to get to them all!

I made a stop at the nearest "Cofferight" for a tyropita and a caramel frozito and was on my way.

It was late in the afternoon when my book hunt finally came to an end, and with my arms full of books I hailed a cab to take me home. I was too exhausted to wait for a bus and the weather wasn't helping any. The air was warm but full of electricity and dark clouds had started to gather at the afternoon sky. It looked like a storm was on its way.

My timing was perfect; just as the cab turned to the corner of my building, making a stop in front of the entrance, the skies opened and it started to pour. The loud thunder sounded somewhere in the distance.

I ran inside to avoid getting wet and hesitated before the stairs. I had to climb three floors when I was already exhausted, with aching feet and the extra weight of the books. I looked back and forth between the elevator and the stairs for a minute, trying to decide. _What the hell,_ I thought. I had already used the elevator with Amelia the previous night and it wasn't too bad. I could do this.

I patiently waited for the ancient box to descend to my level. After a couple of minutes it landed with an ominous "boom". I gulped and stepped inside. There were two doors, both manually operated. First you had to open the cage-like metal one and then a wooden one that looked like an accordion. You had to make sure that the wooden one was properly closed or the elevator wouldn't start moving. I was about to do so when someone re-opened the metal door.

First, I saw his feet. They were big and clad in black leather boots. My eyes followed his long jean-clad legs up to his masculine torso, which was on my eye level. I stood there, staring at his broad chest for a minute or so before leaning my head back to look up (and up some more) to his face. And that's when I stopped breathing.

Holy shit. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. The first thing I noticed about him was his eyes - they were sapphire blue. My eyes were blue too, but nowhere near that shade; they seemed dull compared to his penetrating gaze. I didn't even think that colour was possible unless you wore contact lenses – and something told me that he wasn't. His hair was blond, darkened by the rain but it seemed that dry it would be the same ash-blond as mine. It was shoulder length, reminding me of Brad Pitt in _Legends of the Fall_. Only, Brad had nothing on this god in front of me. The way his wet locks hung heavily onto his shoulders made his white t-shirt wet. And transparent.

I gulped.

I didn't know how long had passed while I was making my silent evaluation of the creature in front of me. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Hell, a week could have passed and I would still be there, staring at him with a gaping mouth.

_Fudge_. I closed my mouth as soon as my brain started working again, realising how foolish I must have looked. Only, I closed it a bit too fast and my teeth clicked together loudly, as if too emphasize my stupidity.

The stranger was looking back at me, evidently not disturbed in the slightest by my ogling, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary to have women staring at him while drooling (I raised my hand to my mouth to make sure I wasn't doing that at least), amusement dancing in his eyes, a smirk forming on his full, smooth lips.

That smirk was what drew me out of my reverie. Annoyed both by myself and by that stupid arrogant smile, I made room for him to enter the elevator and stared at my feet. My ears must have been as red as a radish by now.

"Which floor?" His voice was deep. I could almost feel the sound-waves crushing into me and making me shiver.

_Snap out of it Stackhouse._

I would not let this… this… whatever the hell this sudden feeling was, win. I looked into his eyes and answered with the steadiest voice I could muster. "The third, please."

He pressed the button for the third floor.

"Friend of Amelia's?" His question had a hint of distaste; just a hint, but I caught it. It irritated me even more.

"Yes," I answered defiantly, still looking into his eyes, refusing to break his gaze. I would say that I raised my chin proudly too, but it was already raised. It was either that or me talking to his torso - and I had already spent more than enough time staring at that. "Also, her neighbour."

That made him raise his eyebrows. "Oh, so you're the new girl… under me?" His innuendo did not escape me. "I'm Eric. Eric Northman. I live on the fourth."

I had guessed that much already from what Amelia had told me about him. Gorgeous, tall and blond? Check! Causing outright staring (and maybe a little drooling too)? Check! Arrogance and cockiness coming out of his pores? Double check!

"Sookie Stackhouse, nice to meet—"

The elevator halted, suddenly interrupting my introduction. _Shit, shit, shit._ I knew I should have taken the stairs. It had halted so suddenly and violently that I had almost lost my balance. And as if things weren't bad already, its light had gone out._Shit, shit, shit._

Eric's voice sounded eerily clear and loud in the darkness, even though it was barely above a whisper. "Relax Goldilocks; it's just a power cut."

I must have cursed out loud.

"I can't relax. We're stuck in an ancient elevator, God knows what condition its wires are in, and it's pitch black." I could hear the first traces of hysteria in my own voice. "And don't call me Goldilocks," I snapped.

I felt Eric fumble in the dark next to me and suddenly it was not so dark anymore.

"Here. Better now, Goldilocks?" His eyes were full of mischief. He enjoyed annoying me, I could tell.

I ignored the bait.

"What did you do?"

He pointed to the ceiling.

"Emergency light. Works with a battery. I turned on the switch."

"Will it last?" There is one thing worse than being stuck in an old, unreliable elevator and that's being stuck in an old, unreliable elevator with no light on.

"It has enough power for an hour or so. Hopefully we'll be out by then."

"Hopefully?" my voice was high pitched, the hysteria making an appearance once more.

He shrugged. "This is Greece. Once you call the fire department, you have to wait God knows how long till they grace you with their presence. People stuck in elevators aren't exactly their first priority."

He took a cell-phone out of his back pocket and dialled a number –pressing three keys. He must be calling the fire department. I had to remind myself to learn what the emergency numbers in this country were.

He spoke in Greek so I couldn't understand what he was saying, but his face remained calm so I decided to wait a bit before succumbing to panic.

He snapped the cell-phone closed and put it back in his pocket, his moves slow and graceful. He sat down on the floor, his back leaning against the metal cage.

"What did they say? When will they be here?"

"It appears lightning struck a power-line pillar. It has caused a black-out in the whole area. We are not the only ones who got stuck in an elevator, plus another bolt of lightning hit a tree, causing a fire. So it will take them a while." He looked at me still standing, books in my arms, the wild look of a caged animal in my eyes.

"I hate closed spaces," I murmured.

"You'd better sit down," he pointed out.

I sat gracelessly on the floor, put my books down next to me and hugged my shins, my chin resting on my knees. I started to rock back-and-forth like a pendulum, trying to keep myself from panicking.

I could feel Eric looking at me, but I didn't dare look up into his eyes. I guessed he was disgusted by my pathetic behaviour. I certainly was. I knew it was irrational, that I was acting like a child, but I couldn't help it. I was scared of this elevator before ever entering it, and the current situation was not helping any.

"So you like mythology?"

The question startled me and made me forget my phobia for a second.

"How do you know?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He pointed the books next to me. _Duh_.

"Yeah, I'm doing my Master's on Greek mythology."

"A Master's, huh? I never realised there was a degree for that."

"Studying mythology is very important when it comes to the understanding of a society or a certain period of time. The analysis of myths and theirs symbolisms is a common technique in many human studies like History, Sociology or Social Anthropology, if you must know."

"What's your favourite myth?"

I didn't have to think about it. "The story of Adonis."

"That was that very handsome guy, wasn't he?"

"He was more than that. He was the personification of all that's life. A very rare role for a male. The stereotype in myths—and art—is for life to be symbolized by the female form."

He nodded. He was a sculptor; I guess he knew what I meant. "So what was this guy's story?"

I took a deep breath. My fear was forgotten; I got to talk about my favourite subject. Whether he was doing it on purpose to keep me from panicking, or he was just making small talk to make the time pass I didn't know, but I welcomed the distraction.

"There was this girl, called Myrra. She worshipped all Gods but Aphrodite, dismissing the importance of love. So Aphrodite cursed her to lust after her own father. Back then, men had concubines, female sex slaves. Myrra, in her unholy passion, conspired with her governess. When late at night her father demanded that one of the slaves was brought to him, it was Myrra that went. She always entered the bedroom in darkness and left before dawn. So her father had no idea who she was…"

"You mean to tell me, he never realised he was sleeping with his own daughter?"

I had been consumed in my own narration and felt irritated to be disturbed. "One of the favourite sayings of the ancient Greeks was that once lights are off, all women are the same," I rolled my eyes. "Besides, it serves the purposes of the myth. You want to hear the rest of the story, or not?" He made a "go on" motion with his hand.

"…One night, exhausted, Myrra fell asleep. When her father woke up the next morning and saw none other than his own daughter next to him in bed, he lost his mind. He grabbed his sword and tried to kill her. Myrra tried to escape him, running in the garden, asking for the Gods to help her. One of the Gods that was watching—perhaps even Aphrodite herself, who had regretted the cruel punishment—felt sorry for her and turned her into a tree; a myrtle. A few months later, one of the flowers of the tree opened and a baby boy came out of it. Legend has it, the boy was so beautiful that the moment it touched the earth, flowers sprang where he lay.. The Nymphs, deities of the forests and rivers, found him and raised him. They taught him how to hunt and he became fast and strong, running with them in the woods.

Twelve years had passed when Aphrodite saw him and decided she wanted him for her own. But he was too young to, um, use." Eric smirked at this point but he seemed engrossed by the story, so I continued.

"She placed him in a box and took him to the Underworld. He gave the box to Persephone and told her to keep it safe till she came back for it, but to not open it. Only, Persephone did open it. She liked what she saw and she didn't mind that he was too young. She, ahem, used him accordingly."

"A few years passed and Aphrodite returned, asking for her box back. Persephone pretended not to know what she was talking about. _Box? What box? I don't know nothing about no box!"_

"Seems Persephone had a good time _using_ him," Eric commented amused.

I laughed. "Yes, being stuck in the underworld wasn't her idea of a good time. I guess Adonis proved to be a good distraction." We locked eyes, and I forgot what I was about to say.

I coughed to clear my voice. "Yes, well … Anyway. They referred to Zeus for judgement. He decided that four months every year Adonis would be given to Persephone, another four to Aphrodite and the last four were for Adonis himself to do as he pleased. Adonis chose to give his share of months to Aphrodite. So he spent eight months every year on earth and the other four in Hades. When he was in the underworld, Nature wept. Those were the winter months. The months he spent with Aphrodite on earth, Nature rejoiced; it was the time for rebirth."

"Which explains why summers in Greece last so long and the winters are short…? Since Adonis spent most of the year on earth?"

"Exactly."

"So, that's it? They lived happily ever after?"

I eyed him suspiciously to make sure he wasn't making fun of me but he seemed to be serious.

"No, this is not a tale with a happy ending. Ares, the God of War and Aphrodite's formal lover, got irritated by all the attention Aphrodite was paying to her boy-toy. He was used to her having affairs, being the goddess of love and all, but she seemed enchanted with Adonis, spending all her time with him."

"Let me guess; he offed him?" Eric dragged his finger across his throat.

I nodded. "Yes, he transformed into a wild boar and attacked him. Aphrodite rushed at her dying lover's side, but she was too late. In her rush, she forgot to wear her sandals. She picked her foot on the thorn of a rose and her blood painted the rose red. That's why red roses are considered the flowers of lovers."

"I see. And why is this myth your favourite?"

"Because of its symbolism and the importance it held in ancient Greek society. The celebrations for the rebirth of Adonis were some of the most important ceremonies the ancients held. And do you know that every year, in the anniversary of Adonis' death, wives took "a day off" from their duties to mourn him?"

Eric's laughter was booming. The way he leaned his head back made his Adam's apple bobble with his laughter. I licked my lips; I had never wanted to bite a neck that much before in my life.

"Why?" he asked when his laugher subsided.

"What do you mean?" I mumbled confused. My eyes were still glued to his neck.

"Why did they mourn? It's not like they would miss him from their bed… He wasn't _real _for fuck's sake!"

"For them he was very much real," I replied annoyed. "Why do Christians mourn the death of Jesus but celebrate his birthday and his resurrection? Adonis is another case of death and rebirth that can be found in the mythology of almost every nation -like Osiris in Egypt. Jesus was not original in the slightest. Adonis is the archetype.

Besides … You forget that he was the most handsome man to have ever been born. He was 'The Lover'. All women weep when they lose their lover."

"But that is what I mean. He wasn't theirs to lose, I don't see what all the fuss was about!" he insisted.

I took a deep breath. "Here is where you're mistaken," I tried to explain. "Adonis was so beautiful that he was no longer a man. He became a symbol. And as a symbol, he no longer belonged to himself, or even his lover, Aphrodite. He belonged to all women who worshipped him. So when he died, all women lost him."

He didn't argue anymore; he seemed to be thinking about that I had just said, playing absentmindedly with a lighter. I took the chance to observe him a little more closely from under my eyelashes. The lines of his face were perfect, his body lean and muscled, but not overly so. He seemed like a live statue and I'm sure many Masters would have loved painting or carving his form. It was interesting, the idea of him being a sculptor when he seemed more suited to be the model for one instead.

I silently laughed when I thought that he could very well be one of the reincarnations of Adonis. He surely had all the qualities I had just described. I could imagine women all over the world dedicating shrines to him. Only in a more modern form, one suiting the 21st century; instead of building altars and offering flowers and fruits, they would create online communities and dedicate forums to him, exchanging photos and spending hours discussing him, swooning after his perfection. Yeah, I could totally see that happening.

My musings were disturbed by voices outside of the elevator. We heard the metal door open and somewhere from above our heads someone shouted something in Greek. Eric shouted something back and then turned to me.

"The firemen are here. We're stuck between the second and third floor. The wooden door locks when the elevator is in motion or—in our case—stuck between floors, so they have to force it open. There is space enough for us to climb out once they do."

I nodded my understanding, but my throat was dry.

When the firemen finally opened the wooden door, we saw for ourselves where we were stuck. Most of the elevator's door was blocked by the cement that separated the second and third floor and there was a half-meter-long opening above us. Two firemen were crouching in front of the opening and giving directions in Greek.

I had to start learning the language ASAP.

"I'll lift you up and you'll climb out. They will hold you, they won't let you fall so don't be scared Goldilocks, ok?"

I gave him a weak smile. He was doing it again, trying to irritate me, but now I knew he was only trying to distract me from my fear and I was grateful. Mr. "I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt" was not that bad after all.

He came from behind, gripping my waist tightly; it was the first physical contact we had since we met. I could feel his hands where he was touching me through the fabric of my dress, and it felt like an electrical current coursed through my body.

"I've got you," he whispered into my ear, and I felt light-headed from something other than fear. Before I knew it, I was in the air and the firemen were dragging me out. I stood at the side and waited while they helped Eric out too. They exchanged a few words and then left.

I was left alone with Eric outside my apartment. Talk about awkward.

"They said the power is still out, and they don't know when electricity will be restored. It will be dark soon, are you sure you'll be ok?"

"Yeah, thanks. I have some candles in the kitchen drawer, I think I can manage. Amelia should be home from work soon too."

He nodded. "Yeah, well if you need anything I'll be upstairs. You can knock on my door anytime… day or night." He was smirking at those last words and his eyes had a playful sparkle in them.

"Um, okthanksbye," I said as fast as I could, and entered my apartment, closing the door behind me quickly.

I leaned against it and let myself slowly fall to the floor. _What the hell was that?_

_***_

"_Where were you?" _

_Eros cursed inwardly. He had tried to slip in as inconspicuously as possible, but Aphrodite seemed to have been waiting for him._

"_On Earth," he mumbled._

"_What were you doing on Earth? I don't remember sending you on any mission…" She kept questioning him. There was no easy way out of this; he had to tell her the truth._

"_Zeus did," he sighed. "It was a secret mission; I was not supposed to say anything to anyone." He kept his eyes on the ground. He was a grown man, but his mother could be scary. All Olympians knew better than to mistake Aphrodite for the kitten she appeared to be and her son knew her bad sides better than anyone. Talk about "tough love". _

"_Since when does Zeus care about the love life of mortals? This is my field, he'd better stay out of it," she said annoyed. "Was it love at first sight?" she asked. _

_Eros just sifted his weight from one foot to the other and mumbled something incoherent. _

_Aphrodite was growing impatient. Without asking, she grabbed one of his arrows, bringing its point to her nose. She sniffed and lifted an eyebrow. "Mmm… Lust. Lust at first sight." He glanced up to her son. "Did they jump on each other? That's some heavy stuff you used here…"_

_Eros looked down to his tiny—but oh so powerful—mother and seemed perplexed._

"_No, actually they didn't. I was aiming for instant reaction but they both seemed to control themselves pretty well. I thought of hitting them again but I didn't want to risk an overdose."_

_Aphrodite smiled a sardonic smile. "Oh, they're slow burners… My favorite kind. It's that much more fun when they finally crack." She started to turn away but then looked over her shoulder. "Keep me posted," she ordered and Eros nodded. _

_He knew better than to disobey._

* * *

A/N

If any of you are wondering what that "tyropita" that Sookie bought is, it's a Greek cheese-pie, the most common snack for us. Greeks don't do breakfast. We get up, get ready for work or school, grab a coffee on our way there—usually a frappe—and at around 11am we buy a snack like a tyropita or a spanakopita (spinach pie) which sustains us until around 3pm, when we normally have lunch. Lunch before that time is very unusual.

Enough with modern Greek food habits, back to Greek Mythology 101:

**Persephone**: Daughter of Demeter, goddess of harvest, and Zeus (you know who that guy is), Persephone was an Earth goddess who was one day playing in the fields with her girlfriends when the earth opened and Plouton came out of it on his chariot. He kidnapped her and brought her to the Underworld to become his wife. Helios, god of Sun, who witnessed everything, told Demeter what happened to her daughter.

Demeter begged Zeus to force his brother to give their daughter back. Meanwhile, her deep depression for loosing Persephone had caused the land to dry, either on purpose because she was mad, or because in her grief she neglected it. Zeus, who was concerned over the dying of the earth, talked to his brother, ordering him to give Persephone back to her mother. But Plouton was cunning and had already tricked Persephone into eating pomegranate seeds (the number of which varies in different variations of the myth) thus forcing her to remain in Hades at least for a few months per year. The symbolism of this myth is very similar to the myth of Adonis as it addresses death and resurrection as well as the change of seasons.

Persephone hated her life in Hades and often looked for lovers, which explains her reluctance to give Adonis back to Aphrodite.

**Aphrodite**: I've noticed that most people believe Aphrodite to be a daughter of Zeus. In fact Aphrodite is older than Zeus and all the other Olympians. It is true that there is a confusion as, in latter myths, two goddesses are mentioned, both named Aphrodite, one older and one younger, one being "heavenly" and associated with pure love and one being "common" and associated with sex.

But originally the two were one and the same and that's how I will present Aphrodite to you.

She was born when the Titan Cronus (Zeus' father) cut off his father's Uranus (Sky) balls (I'm not kidding, he literally cut off his balls) and took his place as the ruler of the Universe.

The balls fell in the Aegean and Aphrodite arose from the sea foam ("aphros" in Greek) near Cyprus.

Later she came to Olympus and took her place there along with the other gods. The goddess of love, beauty and sexuality, she was extremely beautiful and all the Gods wanted to seduce her. But as she was older and potentially more powerful that all the Olympians, Zeus was afraid a war might break loose because of her. So, he married her to Hephaestus who—as a cripple—was not considered to be a threat to his throne.

Aphrodite was not happy with the man Zeus chose for her though, and got herself a lover, Ares, the God of War. Ares was no genius but he was dark and handsome and apparently those were Aphrodite's criteria.

Hephaestus heard of his wife infidelity by Helios (that guy loved to gossip) and set her and her lover a trap: He pretended to go on a trip to Lemnos, but stayed behind. When his wife thought he had left, she sent a message to Ares to come to her. But when the pair of lovers fell on the bed, a giant net captured them and they couldn't move.

Hephaestus came out of his hiding place and called all the gods to come and see his wife and her lover in their embarrassing state before he set them free.

Aphrodite, ashamed, left Olympus and went back to Cyprus for a few years until her shame was forgotten while Ares went to his birthplace, Thrace.

Besides Ares, who was her official lover and with whom she had many children, after her separation from Hephaestus, Aphrodite got many lovers, some times Gods but mostly mortals.

Even though Zeus had forced her to marry Hephaestus against her will, the two of them were allies. Aphrodite often covered for him when he was cheating Hera and she had even given him an iron belt as a present. As long as he wore that belt, he was tireless and could make love for days and nights without stopping.

**Eros**: Eros is one of the sons Aphrodite had with Ares. He is the god of sexual love. The ancient Greeks believed that people fell in love when Eros hit them with one of his arrows. The most famous reference to him is a line from Sophocles' play "Antigone" where the chorus chants "Ερως ανίκατε μάχαν" = Eros, you who are invincible in battle. (People still use that phrase, mostly in a teasing way, singing it; something like "P. and S. sitting on a tree k.i.s.s.i.n.g".)

But teasing or not, the meaning and bottom-line of that phrase is that Eros is irresistible, and once his arrows hit you, no matter how long you fight him, at the end you'll succumb.

Yeah, that was a not-so-subtle hint. :p

**Now be good kids and press the green button. :)**


End file.
